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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446225">Unexpectedly Expecting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyFiend09/pseuds/FantasyFiend09'>FantasyFiend09</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mpreg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2012-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2012-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:49:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,841</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyFiend09/pseuds/FantasyFiend09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Draco were desperate to get pregnant, and then they did!  Everything worked out, right?  Wait—why is Draco scowling?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unexpectedly Expecting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Imported from 2012 HD Mpreg Fest on LiveJournal<br/>Huge thanks to <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="https://anulira.livejournal.com/profile"></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="https://anulira.livejournal.com/">anulira</a> for doing a deep clean on this and vastly improving it, and to the lovely mods of <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="https://harrydracompreg.livejournal.com/profile"></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="https://harrydracompreg.livejournal.com/">harrydracompreg</a> who not only held the fest, they caught a bunch of type-O's from my post-Beta mess-around.  Thanks as well to Literati for a very fun prompt!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Harry glared at the soupy green substance in the vial he held. It looked like rotten asparagus, but he knew from experience that it tasted far worse. He knew, because he had been taking the potion twice a day for the past three months. He was also meditating, wearing special jewellery, and following a stringent diet. Yet, after months of trying, he had nothing to show for his efforts but his frustration and some hefty withdrawals from his Gringotts account. He sighed and threw back the vile potion, gagging as it slid down his throat in one cold, slimy mass.</p><p>What made the whole process of trying, and so far failing, to conceive even more painful was that everyone was waiting for them to announce a pregnancy. Draco and he had been so excited by their decision to try for a baby that they had found it impossible to keep to themselves. They had blurted it out at Easter brunch at the Burrow, and then again at dinner at Malfoy Manor. Since then, Molly had harped on about how inappropriate their flat was for children, and Narcissa had nagged about Harry still working too hard, even though he'd left the Aurors for a desk job.</p><p>At first, all the attention had been exciting. Now, months later, it was just awkward. Everyone was eagerly awaiting their big news, but there was nothing to tell. Unless they wished to announce their continued failure.</p><p>“Do you think it's the Dark Mark?” Draco had asked one night. “Maybe the magic has made me . . .” This was one of the many doubts and insecurities they dared to voice only to their bedroom ceiling and only when it was too dark to see each other's faces. <i>Am I meant to never have a family? Is my magic not strong enough?</i> The questions did nothing but further their pain.</p><p>Healer Demet at St. Mungo's informed them that their search for fault and blame was quite typical. “Just give it time. Go 'bout your business as usual,” the gruff older man kept telling them. Easy for him to say: he had three kids.</p><p>Harry would have been more than happy to adopt—love mattered far more than blood to him—but he knew that producing a blood heir was important to Draco, and Harry wanted Draco to be happy. Late, late at night when Draco was already asleep, Harry would worry about just what Draco would do if Harry <i>couldn't</i> give him the blood heir he desired.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Harry turned the rose quartz ring in his hand. It was clunky and unattractive, but it claimed to attract fertility magic. Healer Demet had said there wasn't such a thing as <i>fertility</i> magic, but Harry couldn't help but wonder what the harm would be in wearing the ring <i>just in case</i>. It was the same reasoning that led to him hanging a massive painting of Cernunnos, a Celtic god associated with fruitfulness, over their bed and wearing a moonstone pendant of a rabbit. Bunnies were fertile, right?</p><p>Harry looked up and saw Draco quietly stalking the aisles on the other side of the fertility centre. That's how it went these days.</p><p>On their first trip to Terra's Nest—the large shop at the far end of Diagon Alley that sold everything from fertility aids to toddler brooms—they had walked around holding hands and laughing as they looked at high chairs, bibs, and toys. They had been so excited, so eager to purchase every item of baby gear on the ground floor. They had even browsed the toddler toys in the basement, cheerfully arguing about the proper age for a first broom.</p><p>When they had finally made their way to the first floor, it was for the pregnancy gear, not the fertility centre. They had foolishly assumed they wouldn't need it; infertility happened to other people.</p><p>These days, they stoically shuffled straight to the stairs, ignoring the taunts of the brightly coloured baby clothes and adorable stuffed animals. And as much as it hurt to walk past the reminders of what they were failing to achieve, they <i>were</i> grateful that the fertility centre was separated from the rest of the store: the fertiliwitch had no concept of how to lower her voice whilst describing sexual positions in graphic detail.</p><p>Harry continued to browse the shelves. He grimaced at a rather large gemstone that was meant to be inserted prior to sex. At least he wasn't <i>that</i> desperate. Yet.</p><p>“Draco, look at this!” He held up a bottle of charmed lubrication as he walked over to his husband. “It says that it charms on contact to increase susceptibility to Transfiguration!” A glance at Draco showed the usual scepticism. “C'mon. It can't hurt to try,” Harry pleaded.</p><p>Draco looked like he might make a retort, but then he pressed his lips together in a tight line. A moment later his face was completely blank. “Whatever you'd like, Harry,” he said tonelessly, before turning away to stare at the latest edition of <i>Unexpectedly Not Expecting</i>.</p><p>Draco was doing that more and more: guarding his expressions, agreeing without comment, and generally turning in on himself. Harry hated feeling that Draco was pulling away from him, and it made him more desperate to conceive the blood heir that would make Draco happy.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Harry was not looking forward to another awkward meal, but it was Hermione's birthday, and she was his best friend. If he could face Dark Wizards, he could certainly survive good food with his closest friends.</p><p>Harry and Draco arrived at the Burrow's back garden to the sounds of chatter and laughter filling the warm September air. Clusters of people were mingling around a long, food-laden table under the glow of charmed paper lanterns. Harry easily slipped into the sea of friends and family, basking in the warmth of happy, familiar faces.</p><p>He tried to ignore the occasional glances at his waistline or how pointedly Percy had asked whether he wanted a Firewhisky. Harry said yes to the drink, just to signal that he wasn't pregnant. He wouldn't actually drink it—<i>Unexpectedly Not Expecting</i> said that alcohol lessened the body's susceptibility to pregnancy. Thankfully, after making sure everyone saw him holding a glass of the dark, smoky liquid, no one asked about Harry's work schedule or the possibility of moving home.</p><p>By the time they sat down to eat, Harry had forgotten his earlier misgivings and was actually enjoying himself. That was, until Hermione's co-worker Dave sat down beside him with his dark eyes fixed on Angelina. She was heavily pregnant with her and George's second child, and Dave was gawking at her stomach. Harry looked away. While he refused to let his own frustrations dampen his happiness for Angelina and George, he didn't want to stare at her maternal figure or see her glow with joy.</p><p>Instead, he focused on the various dishes laid out before him. Molly had outdone herself, and the tables were laden with all sorts of salads, pies, and casseroles. He was trying to remember what <i>Unexpectedly Not Expecting</i> said about eating tuna, when Dave spoke.</p><p>“Weren't you gonna get up the duff?” He gestured with a nod toward Harry's glass of firewhisky. “Changed your mind, yeah? Don't blame ya. Dreadful things, babies,” the man waffled on, oblivious to Harry's discomfort. “Stinky nappies, throwing up, <i>endless</i> crying.” He gave a little shudder. “Why would anyone do that to themselves?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry said weakly. He wondered where Draco had gotten to and glanced about. He saw him down the table talking with another of Hermione's co-workers. A nice bloke. One who would never use the expression 'up the duff.' “Why would they?” he parroted.</p><p>Dave took that as a cue to list all of the horrible things pregnancy did to the body, referencing his sister's pregnancy in more detail than Harry ever wanted to hear. “Oh! And the peeing! She shoulda just lived on the loo. But her feet would swell up less she had them up, so she . . .”</p><p>Harry stopped listening. He didn't want to hear about how uncomfortable some stranger's pregnancy was. He would give anything to suffer all of those discomforts, if it meant he could have a child.</p><p>The tinking sound of a spoon on glass caught his attention, and a glance down the table showed Ron standing up from his seat next to Hermione's. Harry had never been more grateful for a speech, as it finally made Dave shut up about his sister's urinary habits.</p><p>“Hey, you lot! Quiet down,” Ron called. When the last of the chatter died, he began his toast to Hermione. “To the most beautiful, cleverest, and kindest witch I know. I thought that life couldn't get better than when she agreed to marry me. And then she actually went through with it! I didn't think I could ever feel luckier. But now I know I can.”</p><p>Harry felt his stomach twist.</p><p>Ron tore his eyes from his wife to look around the table. “Hermione and I are going to have a baby!”</p><p>Ron was beaming, and Hermione was glowing, and Harry wanted to be ill. It wasn't that he wasn't happy for his friends. He was! They would be great parents, and they deserved it. It was just that he and Draco deserved it, too. They wanted it, too. Desperately. Painfully.</p><p>A familiar hand squeezed his shoulder, and Harry turned to see Draco standing behind him. Harry forced a smile for him and then smiled up at Hermione and Ron. He choked out some congratulatory words that he hoped sounded sincere. As soon as was polite, he excused himself to the loo.</p><p>“Shall we go?” Draco asked. He was leaning against the wall outside the loo, arms crossed protectively over his body. Harry looked at his cloudy grey eyes and saw his own longing mirrored there.</p><p>“Yeah, let's go.”</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Back home, Harry felt as though his soul was slipping loose from his body. He could feel it sloshing around inside him, no longer joined to the body he so deeply resented for repeatedly failing him. All he wanted was to have a baby! After everything he'd suffered, everything he'd done, was that so much to ask?</p><p>And if he couldn't do that, would Draco—Harry couldn't even think it; it hurt too much. He absently brushed soot from his sleeve and walked into the sitting room. He fiddled with the bric-a-brac on the mantle just to avoid Draco's eyes.</p><p>Draco's voice tore him from his thoughts. “Do you ever . . .” Harry turned, but Draco trailed off. He was looking everywhere but at Harry. Finally, he seemed to muster the courage to finish his sentence. “Do you ever wish you'd married someone else? Someone who could give you—”</p><p>“NO!” Harry could not believe that he was hearing his very own fears from Draco's mouth. “No. I married you, because I love you. For me, that's the <i>only</i> reason to get married. Yes, I want kids, but . . .”</p><p>“But what? I know you won't be happy without a family. You've talked about having kids for years! Even before we were married. I know you're the last of the Potter bloodline—”</p><p>“Draco, I don't care about bloodlines. Any child we take in and love will be my child, no matter what blood they have.”</p><p>“What about looking like you?”</p><p>Harry laughed hard at that. “What, you want to pass on this hair to another poor child?”</p><p>“I was thinking of your mother's eyes,” was Draco's gentle reply.</p><p>Harry sighed. “Yeah, it'd be nice. But I could give birth to six children without passing on her eyes.”</p><p>“You really wouldn't mind?” The hope in those storming grey eyes made Harry's chest hurt.</p><p>“No. Would you?”</p><p>“I would like a blood heir; I know it would mean a lot to my parents for them to be able to see the Malfoy in their grandchildren. But I would rather adopt than see you so miserable all of the time. You've been so unhappy, and I feel like it's my fault.”</p><p>“No! It's not your fault at all. I'm so sorry, Draco, I was just worried. I thought you—I know you wanted a blood heir and I was worried that if <i>I</i> couldn't give it to you . . .”</p><p>“I'd find someone who could?” Draco gave a little chuckle, but it sounded closer to tears than true laughter. “No, Harry. I chose you. I don't want anyone else. Besides, I can make an adopted child my heir. Look at Sirius. He made you his heir: a half-blood of no relation. And he still had two living cousins by blood, but the magic accepted <i>you</i>.”</p><p>Relief rushed though Harry, and the sadness that had seeped into his bones months ago began to change like liquor put to flame. Slowly it flared and flashed until he felt a fire tearing through him. And there was only one target for his passion, one outlet for his need.</p><p>He shoved Draco against the wall and kissed him so hard his front teeth ached. Usually Draco led in their lovemaking: he would care for Harry, guide him, kiss him, worship and prepare him. And then he would fuck him until Harry let go of every thought in his head. Harry loved being taken care of. He loved letting go.</p><p>Tonight, however, seeing Draco so vulnerable and in need of assurance, Harry wanted to be the one to take care of him. He wanted to be inside Draco and make him feel mindless bliss. Draco—always sensitive to Harry's moods—surrendered to him without a word. Harry pulled them toward the stairs, kissing and fumbling with clothing as they went.</p><p>Eventually, Harry had Draco naked and laid out on their bed. He touched and tasted every bit of porcelain skin, declaring his love with each kiss and caress. He removed his fertility necklace and bypassed the charmed lubricant. This wasn't about making a baby; this was about showing Draco that he was the single most important thing in Harry's life.</p><p>When they finally collapsed together in a sated tangle of sweaty limbs and sheets, the glow on Draco's face showed Harry that he'd succeeded.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>For the next few weeks, Harry carried on with his potions, meditations, and diet. They continued to try to conceive, but they also began researching the adoption process. Adopting would take time: all of the war orphans had long since found homes, and the current number of wizarding orphans was smaller than the number of parents hoping to adopt. It might be years before it was their turn to adopt, but they felt hopeful that it <i>would</i> happen.</p><p>After the strain the past few months had put on their relationship, they were both working to make more time for each other. As part of that, Harry was coming home earlier to cook dinner in the evenings. He enjoyed cooking. He liked the repetition of slicing vegetables and the creativity of mixing flavours. It also made it easier to stick to the fertility diet.</p><p>He was sautéing vegetables in a red sauce when Draco came home.</p><p>“I will never tire of you in an apron.”</p><p>Harry turned to find Draco smirking at him from the doorway. “I am <i>not</i> your house-elf,” Harry warned. This was met with a chuckle.</p><p>“No, if you were a house-elf, you'd be wearing a lot less.” He had walked up behind Harry and slid his arms around his waist. “Maybe just a tea towel. We could . . .” His hands were now under Harry's apron and fumbling at his belt.</p><p>Suddenly, Draco pulled away. His face had turned ashen and his features were pinched.</p><p>“Draco? Are you okay?”</p><p>Draco nodded with his mouth clamped shut. He retreated to the doorway before speaking. “My stomach. Think I'll lie down for a bit. Something I ate, maybe.” With that he was gone.</p><p>When Harry made his way to the bedroom to announce dinner, he found Draco fast asleep on top of the covers.</p><p><i>Poor guy</i>, Harry thought fondly. <i>He's been working too hard</i>. He tucked in the sleeping man and went back to the kitchen to eat alone.</p><p>When Draco still felt nauseous the next day, Harry insisted he take the day off. It was far too dangerous for a potioneer to work whilst unwell: a simple error could cause an explosion.</p><p>Whatever Draco had, it was a weird ailment. The nausea came and went, as did the sometimes crippling fatigue. The whining never ceased.</p><p>“<i>Har-ry!</i> I want some Sugar Mice!”</p><p>“You couldn't eat dinner, you don't get candy. You're not well. You need soup!”</p><p>“I don't want soup! Do we have cookies? I want those cinnamon ones with the sugar on top. Please, Harry? <i>Pleeease?</i>”</p><p>After three more days, Harry had insisted on seeing a Healer. Draco looked properly put out, as the mediwizard poked and prodded him for various diagnostic tests.</p><p>“You <i>will</i> be buying me ice cream, Potter.”</p><p>“That's Malfoy-Potter, love.” Harry kissed his grumpy husband on the head and then stepped out of the way of the wand-wielding mediwizard who was casting a spell over Draco's stomach.</p><p>“Oh,” the mediward said. “Well that would explain it.”</p><p>“Explain what?” Harry and Draco asked in unison.</p><p>The mediwizard looked up, as if surprised to find conscious people in the room. “I'll send Healer Jones in to confirm my results.”</p><p>As soon as he left, Draco turned a panicked look on Harry. “He wouldn't say what it is! It's fatal! I'm going to die, Harry!”</p><p>Harry resisted the urge to snort. “I don't think that's it. It's probably just some hospital policy about double checking results before telling a patient, or Healers giving the official diagnosis instead of mediwizards.”</p><p>Draco stayed quiet but did not look convinced. Healer Jones returned and cast a spell over Draco's stomach. The spell turned orange and she smiled. “Congratulations, gentlemen,” she said. “You're having a baby!”</p><p>Harry and Draco stared at the Healer in shock. Harry couldn't tell how much time passed as he stood and attempted to processes her words. It just didn't seem real! And even when he slowly started to accept that <i>maybe</i> it wasn't a dream or a joke, maybe they were finally going to be parents, he couldn't quite make his mind—let alone his mouth—form words.</p><p>A glance at Draco showed his jaw gaping uncharacteristically. And when Draco finally spoke, he was not his usual articulate self. “Wait—what? We're . . . But I'm . . . We're pregnant, but <i>I'm</i> carrying the baby?”</p><p>Suddenly he rounded on Harry. “You! You . . . You—I can't believe this! <i>I'm</i> not supposed to be the one. I can't . . .” Failing to find the words to express his displeasure, he fell into a sullen silence.</p><p>Harry glanced back at the Healer and saw her look of uncertainty. “It's okay,” he assured. “Could we have a minute?” Healer Jones nodded and fled the room.</p><p>“Draco? Love? We're pregnant. We're <i>pregnant!</i> We're going to have a baby! I know it wasn't how we planned, but we're—”</p><p>“Damn right it wasn't how we planned,” Draco snapped. “Harry, I won't be able to drink! I won't be able to eat sushi! <i>Haaarry</i>, I'm gonna get <i>fat</i>!” He spat the last word as if it were dirty.</p><p>Harry did snort at that. “Not fat, love. Pregnant. You will get bigger, but it will be because you have a baby, <i>our</i> baby, growing inside you. It will be beautiful and magical, and you will be wonderful.” He gave his husband a kiss on the lips, but noted the man did not look convinced.</p><p>“This is just my luck. We spend six months shagging like mad trying to get <i>you</i> pregnant, and nothing. You fuck me <i>one bloody time</i> and I'm pregnant. Does even your <i>sperm</i> have to be better than mine?”</p><p>Harry wanted to laugh at how adorably petulant Draco was being, but he worried Draco would misconstrue it as Harry taking the piss. Instead, he focused on reassurance.</p><p>“Hey, now. Stop that. Maybe it's not about the sperm at all. Maybe it's that you're more fertile than I am. Did you think of that? Maybe you're just better at making babies.”</p><p>“I'd rather be better at catching the snitch,” Draco grumbled. He was looking down at his stomach with a mix of emotions playing across his features.</p><p>“Draco,” Harry said softly. “You're going to be a father. <i>We're</i> going to be fathers and have a baby. Just like we wanted. Just like we've been trying for months.” He pleaded with his eyes for Draco to be happy about the baby with him. It must have worked, because Draco dropped his eyes to his own belly and gave a little smile.</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah we are.” It wasn't the cheers and laughter Harry had imagined when he had fantasised about them getting pregnant, but it was enough.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>With the cause of Draco's nausea and fatigue diagnosed, they went in to see Healer Demet.</p><p>“Well done, lads,” the man said with a quick grin. “Now let's get that baby checked out.” As the grizzly man ran more tests on Draco, Harry gave in to his curiosity.</p><p>“I tried getting pregnant for months—I took the potions and everything. How did he get pregnant in one go?”</p><p>Healer Demet ran a hand through his frizzy grey hair, making it stand up even more. Harry briefly wondered if he was looking at his own hair's future.</p><p>“Takes a lot of magic for two wizard to conceive. The receivin' wizard's sperm has gotta be made into an egg, and then a womb's created to carry it. Sometimes that's Conjuring; more often, the appendix is Transfigured.” He looked back at Draco. “That's what you did. Good choice. More stable.”</p><p>For a moment, Draco looked like he might point out how little choice had been involved in the unintentional pregnancy. Instead, he simply sulked whilst Healer Demet went on.</p><p>“It's complex, wandless magic. Like all spells, intent is important. If either of you'd had any doubts, or if you were upset, it'd weaken the spell. Sometimes just the stress of trying can make it almost impossible.”</p><p>He finished his exam and declared Draco and the baby in good health. “Want to know what it is?”</p><p><i>It's a baby, right?</i> Harry thought. Draco gave a long-suffering sigh that showed he had read Harry's thoughts. Or at least seen his baffled expression.</p><p>“He's asking if you'd like to know if it's a boy or girl,” Draco said. Then he muttered “twit,” under his breath, but Harry pretended not to hear. Instead he simply nodded at the Healer.</p><p>“She's a girl. She's not much to look at now, but in a few weeks I'll cast a spell to let you see her.”</p><p>Harry and Draco sat in awed silence, hardly listening as Healer Demet told them he'd send a mediwitch in to discuss health and safety concerns during pregnancy. Once the door clicked shut and they were alone, they turned goofy grins on each other.</p><p>“A girl,” Harry cooed. He had worried that Draco would want a male heir, but the soppy look on his husband's face allayed that fear. He was about to ask Draco about names, when a chipper witch with wild coils of blonde hair came into with rolls of parchment and a bright smile.</p><p>“Mr. Malfoy-Potter,” she began, addressing Draco. “Is it safe to say that you work with potions and potion ingredients?” Draco's grin faded into a mild glare.</p><p>“I am a potions master, so yes, that is safe to say.”</p><p>The Healer's lip twitched, but she did not otherwise acknowledge Draco's tone. “Here's a list of potions and ingredients that are safe for use and handling during pregnancy.” She handed him a single sheet of parchment.</p><p>“That said, I recommend using a Bubble-Head Charm and wearing a dragonhide apron as often as possible when brewing or even handling potions. Now, here are the ingredients and potions that you should avoid until after the baby is born.” She pulled out a <i>very</i> long sheet of parchment, and Harry bit back a grin as Draco's eyes widened in what must have been horror.</p><p>The Healer gave a little smirk. “You may want to hire an assistant. Now, let's talk about ventilation. . . .”</p><p>Harry gave up on listening and mentally prepared himself for the ranting and whining that was sure to follow him home. The assistant idea had merit. He resolved to owl Professor McGonagall for a recommendation of a Hogwarts graduate who excelled in Herbology and Potions, but also had sufficient patience to handle one pregnant Draco Malfoy-Potter.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>“Draco, I want to tell them! They're my best friends!”</p><p>“No! It's bad luck. Not until three months.”</p><p>Harry threw himself down onto the couch. He had the most exciting news of his life, and he couldn't tell his two best friends. The people who knew <i>everything</i>! Okay, maybe not everything, but this wasn't really part of his sex life.</p><p>Although . . . He wouldn't put it past Ron to have some fun with the fact that it was Draco who had gotten pregnant in the end. The two of them were friendly these days, but neither could resist a barb at the other's expense, and Ron was sure to see this as a perfect opportunity.</p><p>Harry resolved to tell Ron privately, and he would use bribery, blackmail, and whatever else was necessary to make Ron behave. Draco was being stroppy enough without Ron provoking him.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Three months finally passed, and they began to spread the news. Ron, under threat of having his own hormonal, pregnant spouse turned against him, did nothing to provoke Draco.</p><p>Molly and Arthur were overjoyed. Bill and Fleur offered tons of advice. George and Angelina, both with dark shadows under their eyes, had offered tired smiles and the promise that it was totally worth it. Then baby Fred had started crying again and they had rushed from the Floo. Percy, Charlie, and Ginny had all sent owls with their congratulations.</p><p>Having told all of the Weasleys, Harry could no longer delay telling the Malfoys.</p><p>He was not looking forward to it. He knew his in-laws wanted grandchildren, so they would be delighted to hear that Harry and Draco were having a baby. He just didn't want them to know that <i>Draco</i> was the one who was pregnant.</p><p>Lucius didn't like Harry. Harry knew it and returned the sentiment. But for the sake of Draco and Narcissa, they were civil and behaved themselves. Part of how it worked was that Lucius made a point of treating Harry like the daughter-in-law he felt he'd been deprived.</p><p>He seemed pleased that Harry cooked, sewed, and gardened. He never mentioned Harry's work for the DMLE, especially not his time as an Auror. Lucius seemed to want to think about the ways in which Harry was like Narcissa and matched his ideal of a good little housewitch for a gentile old bloodline. The fact that Harry was a man was to be ignored at all costs.</p><p>Harry really didn't care <i>what</i> Lucius thought, so long as the man was no longer attempting to hurt him or his loved ones. Or trying to help Dark Wizards with world domination. Not much to ask of a father-in-law, really.</p><p>Given that Lucius liked to pretend that Harry was the wife he had always wanted for his son, Harry was confident that Lucius would not be happy about the details of the pregnancy. The fact that Draco was pregnant meant that Lucius would no longer be able to pretend that his son had never had a cock up his arse. Harry Potter's cock.</p><p><i>Oh shit.</i> Lucius would know that Harry had fucked his son. He was a dead man.</p><p>They made it through the initial pleasantries and were making small talk in the drawing room before Draco blurted out “I'm pregnant!” The room went so silent that Harry thought he could hear the dust gathering.</p><p>“<i>You</i> are pregnant?” Lucius questioned, before he threw an accusatory glance at Harry. “I was under the impression that <i>Harry</i> was to carry the child.”</p><p>“Well, yes. He was. We tried,” Draco replied. Harry was squirming. This was far too close to discussing sex with Lucius, and Lucius and Harry's sex life simply did not mix. “But then, well, we thought we'd try something different. . . .”</p><p>Harry wasn't listening any more: he was mentally calculating the distance to the door. He wondered where Lucius kept his wand and how long it would take him to draw it. There was a high-backed chair between Harry and the door that would make a decent shield. He glanced back at Lucius and realised the man was talking.</p><p>“. . . clarify. Harry spent months attempting to conceive a child without success. Then there was a one night fluke, and <i>you</i> conceived.” Harry watched as Draco nodded. He couldn't breathe as he waited for Lucius to explode.</p><p>A smile, not a particularly kind or friendly one, but a smile, spread across Lucius' face. “So Draco achieved in one night, what Harry failed to achieve over months.”</p><p>Harry couldn't resist his own grin. <i>Of course</i>, Lucius would see it that way. “That's right,” he humoured. It seemed he wouldn't have to flee for his life after all.</p><p>“And doesn't the Transfiguration involved require a very powerful wizard?” Lucius continued. “I know that male pregnancy is still rare, even with supplemental potions. And Draco wasn't even taking the potions!” Yes, Lucius had clearly warmed to the topic.</p><p>Draco raised a hand in protest. “Now, Father. The Transfiguration is affected by the magic of both wizards—”</p><p>“But primarily the carrying wizard!” Lucius cut in.</p><p>Harry thought it was testament to how much Draco had changed since their school days that he was eager to share credit for an achievement, rather than hogging bragging rights. It was this new humility that made Harry happy for Draco to get the glory for their shared accomplishment.</p><p>“Your father is right, Draco. Even with the benefit of the potions, I could not conceive. But you succeeded on the first attempt. You are a very powerful wizard, love.”</p><p>Lucius stood with his chest puffed out, all but radiating My-Son-Beat-Harry-Potter pride.</p><p>Having dodged a curse with Lucius, Harry and Draco turned to see how Narcissa was reacting to the discussion. Examining her face, Harry saw her bright blue eyes shining with unshed tears. She stared at Draco as she strode forward and engulfed him in a hug.</p><p>“My little boy. You're going to have a baby!” She pulled back and studied him, her joy turning to worry. “How are you feeling? Are you able to eat, or is your stomach bothering you? I have some ginger biscuits that will sort you right out. And tea. You'll want it weak, of course, but it will help with your stomach and keep you hydrated. . . .”</p><p>She led Draco out of the room, arm clutched protectively around him. Harry simply watched as his husband's shoulders became increasingly tense. Draco later reported that it took him an hour to get her to stop fussing long enough for him to tell her the baby was a girl.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Narcissa was in the conservatory when Harry returned two weeks later. She was sat in the sunshine with a ball of bottle green yarn on her lap. She held a knit circle of dark grey wool and two long silver needles in one hand and her wand in the other. With a swish of her wand, the needles flew into the air and seemed to dance as the green yarn rose from her lap to join them. Soon the needles were lining the grey circle with the green yarn.</p><p>“Do you like it?” Harry pulled his eyes from the flying, dancing needles and looked at his mother-in-law. Her eyes were sparkling and she looked almost giddy with pleasure.</p><p>“This will be the hat,” she went on. “The whole outfit will be grey and green. I don't know whose eyes the baby will have, so I am including both colours. Of course, she could have my eyes, or your father's. . . .” Her delicate brow knit slightly and her lips tightened in concern.</p><p>“The colours are beautiful,” Harry assured her. “And they will almost certainly match the baby's eyes. Even if she has your blue eyes, the colours will be flattering.” He must have said the right thing, because Narcissa was beaming again as she pulled out the grey yarn and cast a spell to alternate the colour the needles used.</p><p>Harry watched as the striped hat formed before his eyes. The yarn matched the shades of his and Draco's eyes perfectly, and he wondered how many hours Narcissa had spent carefully selecting it. He stood staring for several minutes before Narcissa spoke again.</p><p>“Harry, darling. I doubt you came to watch me knit.”</p><p>“Huh? Oh! Yeah. Draco wants more of those ginger biscuits you gave him. I tried buying some, but one type was too sweet and another was too crunchy and . . .”</p><p>Narcissa smirked, reminding Harry that Draco's looks were not all inherited from his father. “Yes, I remember being quite <i>particular</i> when I was pregnant—and I imagine that Draco is even more so.”</p><p>“Yeah, he's always liked things his own way, but now . . . yeah.” He didn't really want to whinge to his mother-in-law, but her little nod and smile made him think she understood anyway. She called a house-elf to collect the biscuits and a few other things for Draco. When Harry heard Narcissa request a bottle of wine and two glasses, he tried to decline.</p><p>“Oh, thank you, but I should be getting back. It's almost dinner time and—”</p><p>“Has he made you stop drinking, because he can't?” There was a hint of a smile on her lips. It grew when Harry nodded. “Yes, I did the same to Lucius.”</p><p>She poured two glasses of dark red wine and held one out for Harry. “What he doesn't know won't hurt him. And you are going to need it: he'll only get worse.”</p><p>Harry took the glass. It had only been a couple of months, but he missed the sharp flavour. Narcissa held her glass high and spoke.</p><p>“To children, and all we do for them.”</p><p>Harry smiled at that, remembering all that Narcissa had done for her son. “To children,” he echoed.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>“<i>Haaaarry!</i>”</p><p>At the now-too-common whine, Harry dropped his quill and trudged down the stairs to the living room. Draco stood in the middle of the room pointing sadly at the Quidditch magazine at his feet.</p><p>“I dropped it,” he pouted.</p><p>Harry sighed. “So Summon it,” he said, as gently as his thin patience would allow.</p><p>Draco's pout deepened. “I left my wand upstairs.”</p><p>Harry knew that Draco had <i>forgotten</i> his wand upstairs, as he now forgot so many things. Not that Harry was fool enough to mention it. Draco's memory was one of an ever-growing list of volatile subjects. Instead, he simply picked up the magazine, Accioed Draco's wand, and handed them both over to his doe-eyed husband with a patient smile.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Harry woke to a rough shove.</p><p>“Move, Potter. You're in the way.” Harry opened a bleary eye to a moonlit body trashing about next to him.</p><p>“Draco?” His mouth felt like cotton. “Whayadoin?”</p><p>“I'm <i>trying</i> to roll over. But there's <i>someone</i> in the way,” Draco bit out.</p><p>Harry moved over to the edge of the bed and sat up. He was almost fully awake by that point and took a moment to take in the scene before him. The full moon provided the light necessary to appreciate his round-bellied husband. Draco's otherwise lithe frame was pinned under the size and weight of his substantial stomach, making his form reminiscent of a turtle stuck on its back. As Harry watched, Draco grunted and rocked until he had successfully rolled from his left side to his right.</p><p>With a bit more huffing, Draco began his pillow ritual: a pillow for between his legs, a small one for under his belly, another to rest his left arm on, and finally one for his head. Harry remembered when <i>he</i> was Draco's pillow, but that was months ago. Nowadays, it was only the fact that they had magically enlarged the bed that kept Harry from being relegated to the couch.</p><p>Sometimes, Harry thought it might be safer. Sleeping with a heavily pregnant Draco was not dissimilar to sleeping with a brooding dragon. He wondered if his in-laws had been prophetic about Draco's nature when they chose his name.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Healer Demet cast the same spells he always did during their now-weekly check ups.</p><p>“Baby's doing well. Lungs look good. I think that we can go ahead and schedule the delivery.”</p><p>Harry watched as the last bit of colour drained out of Draco's face. They knew this was coming, of course: Healer Demet had explained the delivery process in detail. It was something akin to a Muggle caesarian.</p><p>While Draco had been deeply unimpressed when they were first told that he would have his abdomen sliced open—and hadn't <i>that</i> thought brought back a horrible memory from sixth year—he had never looked as horrified as he did now that the moment was upon them.</p><p>Healer Demet went off to get the delivery room schedule, and Draco fell apart.</p><p>“I can't do it! That man wants to rip me open! I don't want to! Harry, don't make me!” His eyes had filled with tears and it broke Harry's heart to see them.</p><p>“Shhh, love. It's okay. He said it won't hurt. They cast a spell so you won't feel anything, and I'll be right there.”</p><p>Draco nodded, but it looked robotic. Healer Demet returned, and Harry made the arrangements as Draco stared at his own stomach. Draco was so quiet for the rest of the day, Harry found himself missing the whining.</p><p>Two days later, they were back at St. Mungo's while Healer Demet did a final examination.</p><p>“Strong heartbeat. Positions good. Everything's all set. If you've no more questions, I'll meet you in the delivery room. A mediwizard will come get you in a few.”</p><p>When they were alone, Draco turned to him with the same desperate look from two days before. “They're going to cut me open! It'll hurt! I'm going to die!”</p><p>Harry wrapped his arms around the now-trembling husband. “Stop that,” he ordered softly. “You are <i>not</i> going to die. I won't let anything happen to you and I'll be with you the whole time. You are going to do this, and be brave and amazing, and then we will hold our daughter for the first time. Don't you want to hold her?”</p><p>Draco looked up at him and nodded. As Harry watched, the determination came back into his eyes and Harry knew they would really be fine.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p> </p><p>That afternoon, Harry stood in the recovery room showing little Lily Narcissa Malfoy-Potter to her grandmother, the last of over a dozen visitors. Harry had been worried his mother-in-law would mind the order of the baby's names, but she had simply smiled and said “Lily is a beautiful name.”</p><p>“May I hold her?” she asked.</p><p>“Of course!” Harry didn't really want to let his daughter go, but he knew he would have plenty of time to hold her in the days to come. Besides, it gave him a chance to check on Draco, who was currently napping as he recovered.</p><p>“Oh, isn't she darling,” Narcissa cooed. “She has our hair, but I think she'll have your mother's eyes.”</p><p>“She'll look lovely in that hat you knitted,” Harry said, and he was rewarded with a beaming smile.</p><p>“Yes, she will.”</p><p>“She'll look lovely in everything,” Draco croaked. “She's <i>my</i> daughter.”</p><p>Harry laughed: pregnancy and delivery had done nothing to dampen Draco's ego. “I'm glad you're awake. Your mother brought you dinner. She said you would refuse the hospital food, and you really need your strength.”</p><p>“Damn right I would refuse what passes for food here.” He tucked into the steak and potatoes she'd brought with less finesse than usual.</p><p>“I'll be by in the morning with breakfast.” Narcissa passed Lily back to Harry and kissed the three of them goodbye.</p><p>Finally alone, Harry sat on the bed next to Draco.</p><p>“We did it.” He looked down at his peacefully sleeping daughter and then over at his happily eating husband. “We did it.”</p><p>“Yes, we did. Well, really, <i>I</i> did all the work.” Yes, Draco was recovering nicely.</p><p>“It wasn't so bad,” Harry provoked.</p><p>“Easy for you to say! You didn't suffer the nausea, the aches, <i>the inconveniences</i>!”</p><p>“And wasn't every minute worth it?”</p><p>Looking down at their new baby, Draco's pout lost its strength. Harry watched as his husband began to smile and, by the time he looked back at Harry, his eyes were shining and he all but glowed.</p><p>“Yes.” Draco's eyes narrowed. “But you're still carrying the next one, Potter.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~The End~</p>
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  <a id="cutid1-end" name="cutid1-end"></a>
</p><p>Originally posted for Harry/Draco Mpreg Fest 2012 <a href="http://harrydracompreg.livejournal.com/173489.html?view=1623985#t1623985">here</a>.</p>
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